Love in Harmony
by Thedragon456123
Summary: Kurt is a poor boy at age 18. Blaine is the son of the richest man in 100 leagues. When Kurt is sold to Blaine's family as a singer, Blaine begins to develop feelings for the boy. Klaine. Kurt whump. Medieval AU.
1. Chapter 1

**_Glee does not belong to me, but the storyline and ideas are mine._**

**Longer description:**

**In an alternate universe, listening to music is a luxury for the rich. Peasants who are gifted in singing are sold as slaves specifically for the purpose of singing as entertainment for the rich. Kurt Hummel is an only child, living with his dad, striving to make enough money to survive and dreading the day of the Test. Blaine Anderson is the son of the richest man within one hundred leagues and when he turns 18, his Mother decides to take him out to buy a Singer of his own. When Kurt and Blaine's paths cross, Blaine starts to feel something for his slave… **

The Test was something that all poor teens feared. On the first day of every new year, all eighteen year olds would be taken and forced to sing in front of Inspectors. The ones that had a desirable voice would be taken and sold as Singers. The Inspectors could tell if someone pretended to sound bad, and the family of that person would be punished and the offender killed. Refusal to sing at all would result in immediate execution.

Kurt was eighteen. The day of the Test was today. The time of the Test was now.

Kurt knew his own singing voice. He had tried it out, and he was 70% sure they would choose him. No one knew what happened when someone was taken to become a Singer. They weren't even allowed to see their family before they are whisked away. A family would just wait and pray for their child to come home. There was one time when Kurt and his dad and went with Finn's family (after Finn had been chosen) to the market where the Singers were being sold.

Finn had been standing behind a glass wall, standing perfectly still, looking straight ahead, not even reacting as his parents approached him. His mother had called his name, fallen onto her knees, sobbing. Finn hadn't moved.

After seeing his old friend like that, Kurt had become even more terrified of the Test. But one of the worst things about it was who he would leave behind if he was chosen. His dad was strongly independent, and constantly stated that he didn't need Kurt's help, but he was getting old, and would soon be unable to fend for himself.

Now Kurt was standing in a line side by side all of the other eighteen year olds, an air of suspense tying them together as efficiently as any chains, an Inspector standing and pacing in front them. The man had a wide girth and several chins with an expression that would stop a mosquito mid-bite. He paused and looked Kurt up and down. Kurt's heart was pounding in his chest, but he tried his best to return his stare. He grunted and kept moving.

"Any fakes will be punished," the Inspector said loudly, "Don't sing and you will die. I trust you all leaned the required melody."

The teens nodded in unison. "Good. Let's begin."

He walked to the first person in the line, a brown haired girl with a noticeably large nose. Kurt recognized her as Rachel, a girl he used to play with as a child. They had grown apart since Kurt had started working hard to keep him and his dad supported. She sang the melody (a simple scale), her voice ringing with a clear, powerful tone, and the Inspector nodded approvingly and kept walking. For Rachel, singing had always seemed to be the only thing that could bring her joy, but now her face was downright sorrowful. Kurt felt a pang of sadness for his childhood friend, though they had not spoken in at least a year. The inspector listened to seven more people of varying voice quality (some were painful to listen to, and Kurt envied them) until he came to Kurt.

His voice shaking with nervousness, he sang, trying to keep a defiant eye contact with the man before him. Something seemed to change slightly in his eyes as Kurt finished, but he moved on without a word. After a couple minutes of waiting, the Inspector stepped back again. "I have chosen," he announced. Kurt's hands were shaking, so he balled them up into fists.

Guards came forward, ready to take away whoever was chosen. The Inspector pointed at people (Rachel, a black haired girl, a blond boy, a boy that Kurt recognized from the village who couldn't walk or see well) and they were each taken by a guard through a door across the room. And then the man pointed a single finger at Kurt. He froze. "Take that one too."

He felt rough, metal-clad hands grab his shoulders and start to direct him towards the door. Kurt went willingly until he realized what was happening and planted his feet firmly on the floor, refusing to move forward. It went his way until he felt the flat side of a knife against his cheek. "Don't fight," the guard whispered, moving the knife from his cheek to his throat, drawing a few drops of blood. People gasped.

The guard lowered the knife and shoved Kurt forward. He went quietly, walking at a brisk pace with the guard behind him, the knife pressed against his back. They went through the door in a small room where the other singers were waiting in row, fear flashing in their eyes.

"Congratulations," a well-dressed woman said, "You now have the honor of singing in the service of your betters."

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**Burt's POV**

Burt sat at the window, staring out at the road and scanning the faces of the teens that were returning from the Test. They looked grim. He could already hear the crying of parents being told that their children would not return home. More crying as overjoyed parents greeted their children. Burt walked into the center of the street, standing there as the last teen returned to his home.

Burt kept expecting to see his son's shape as he walked down the road, smiling and ready to hug his father, but nothing. Thick dread coursed through him, then hot denial, then cold despair. He fell on his knees. Kurt was gone. He had been chosen. Burt was sobbing now, something he hadn't done since the death of his wife.

He felt someone hugging him from behind. Carole, Finn's mom. "I'm so sorry, Burt," she said, sitting on the ground next to him, still hugging him.

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**Kurt's POV**

"My name is Sue Sylvester," the blond woman in chainmail stated, "but you _will_ call me mistress."

Kurt hated her already. The way she carried herself; the way she talked. She reminded him of a snake, like the one he had come across as a child in the garden. It had hissed at him, staring at him like it was analyzing his every move. Kurt was paralyzed with fear, and had remained completely still until his dad had come and found him and scared off the snake. This Sue made him feel the same way, but this time with a spark of defiance.

He would not end up like Finn.

**Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. If you did, be sure to tell me!**


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter is a lot meaner to Kurt, but Blaine still isn't introduced. Sorry.**

Sue picked up an iron rod from a fire pit in the center of the room. There was an intricate design on the end of it, and it glowed with the same intensity as Sue's eyes, sending an ironically cool chill down Kurt's spine. "You'll need to be marked," Sue said, her voice revealing that she was enjoying every moment of this. "That way, you can't run off without someone turning you in." A shudder ran through the aura of the group they looked just as scared as Kurt felt. "Who's first?" As though she expected someone to volunteer.

A guard standing against the wall with an evil smirk spoke up, pointing at Kurt. "That one was giving me trouble coming in here." Kurt froze, while Sue gave a devilish smile, staring him down.

"Well then I guess he'll have to put in his place. Hold him." Two guards grabbed Kurt, their thick callused hands digging into his arms, surely leaving bruises, forcing him down onto his knees, one of them pinning his hands behind his back and the other forcing his head down so he was looking at the ground. He felt a gag being shoved in his mouth. At first he felt nothing, just a faint, somewhat cool presence, but then, suddenly, there was a searing pain, starting in his shoulder blade and spreading across his body like flame catching on oil. He screamed into the gag, tears forming in his eyes, the searing screaming of his skin growing louder as the seconds ticked past.

Finally, agonizingly, the hot iron was pulled away from his skin, but the pain didn't stop completely. He felt someone grab him and lift him to his feet, igniting a fresh wave of agony with every movement. He was pushed through a door and thrown onto the floor of another room. Then the guards left, leaving Kurt curled up on the ground, sobbing. He could feel the presence of another person in the room, but he ignored it in his own pain.

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This was Will's second least favorite part of his job, even though he wasn't even in the room when it happened. He hated standing there and hearing the tortured screams from the next room, and then seeing the victims falling to floor in a heap, sometimes crying in pain. Honestly, he hated his job. He was supposed to be teaching the new Singers things like how to behave around their masters or how to read music out loud without hesitation. His students always feared him; hated him. He tried to be kind and gentle, and there was always an occasion when someone would trust him, but he didn't really get to know anyone. They were put on market after a week of training. Still, he was good at his job, and it paid well.

Will's thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and a body being thrown onto the stone floor. A small boy curled up into himself, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He looked so young, even for an eighteen year old. Another scream sounded, this one slightly more feminine, and soon a girl fell into the room. By this time, the boy had managed to sit up, grimacing. He crawled over to the girl, and helped her sit up. She looked up at him with a tear stained face and whispered, "Kurt? Are you okay? They were pretty rough on you back there."

"l…I'm fine. You?"

The girl—Rachel—nodded, looking impossibly small, her eyes wide with fear. "What is going to happen to us?"

"I don't know," Kurt said, "I really don't know."

**Kurt's POV**

Kurt hugged Rachel tightly, and she buried her face in his shoulder. They heard grunting and yelling from the next room, followed by another scream. The door opened, and the occupants of the room looked up to see four guards forcing the black haired girl out the door and pushing her away. She gave an enraged yell and threw herself at the door as it slammed shut.

"Bastards!" She screamed, "I'm gonna rip your small intestine out of your mouth, and rip your large intestine out of your ass, and use you as a skipping rope!"

"That's not going to help, Santana," Rachel said softly.

Santana glared at her. "It's better than cooperating," she hissed, holding her shoulder where the burn was clearly smoking. Kurt felt an odd mix of appreciation and annoyance from Santana's actions. She was brave, yes, but stupid.

_Bravery is the kindest word for stupidity_, Kurt thought.

Another person was thrown into the room. The blond boy who Kurt recognized as Sam fell, brushing off his ragged cloths. He didn't fight like Santana had; he just sat there, shooting daggers from his eyes, his fists clenched as he scanned the room. Finally, his eyes landed on something behind Kurt. "Who the _Hell _are _you_?" He demanded. Kurt turned around to investigate. There was a man, well dressed, but not in armor like Sue was. He looked sad, like he pitied them.

"I am really sorry about this, but-"

He was cut off by Sue and the guards entering the room, Sue with a smug look on her face. The other boy wasn't there. "Where's Artie," Sam asked, glaring at Sue.

She smirked. "You mean the cripple?" Sam nodded. "He was no use to us. We disposed of him." Sam looked at her in shock, his face going blank as he tried to comprehend what Sue was saying.

"He…no. No!" Sam yelled, jumping to his feet. Kurt looked at the screaming boy in pity as he was restrained by some men, fists flailing and tears running down his face.

Sylvester glared at him so forcefully that Sam stopped moving, frozen by her stare, the anger drifting off his face revealing the pain and grief that it had masked. "In a line!" she demanded. Kurt quickly moved into a line with the others, side by side, facing Sylvester and the man. "We need to be clear on the rules. Any of you misbehave and you will be punished severely. Even think about escaping and you will be executed like _that_." She snapped her fingers and Kurt flinched as if her snapping her fingers would actually kill them. "This is Will Shuester. You will call him Master_." _Shuester looked at them with pity, but Kurt only feared him. _Was this the man who…who broke Finn? _"He will be instructing you for the next week. You will do everything he says: no exceptions."

"Thank you, Sue. I'll take it from here," he said. Sylvester nodded to him and took her leave, four of the five guards following her out the door. "Come with me." He lead them through hallway after hallway, down some stairs, and down another hall until they finally came to a room with bunks lining the far wall and wooden chairs lining the wall to the left. "Find a bunk or a chair and sit down. We need to talk about this."

Kurt and Rachel shared a bunk with Rachel on top. Sam and Santana slept on separate bunks. "Okay," Will said, looking each of them in the eye, "I'm so sorry this had to happen to any of you. You may not have gathered this by now, but I am strongly opposed to this whole mess. I only have this job for the money to keep my family alive and believe me when I say that I hate it with all my heart. I just want to help you survive for the rest of your lives, but that will only happen if you trust me."

"If you want to help us, then why don't you help us escape?" Santana snapped.

Will sighed. "It's not that easy. You have to everything anyone tells you for the rest of your life or things will get difficult. Just be careful."

With that the lesson began. They worked on learning how to read music and about how to behave around their masters. They were given a small meal and left to sleep. Kurt climbed into his bed, muttering a small goodnight to Rachel, too exhausted for anything else. The thin blanket scratched his skin and did nothing to ward off the cold that had crawled into his bones with the fear and sadness. He missed his Dad. He missed Carol. He missed his daily walks down to the bakery to sell the eggs. He missed his old life so deeply he couldn't sleep. Literally. He spent hours tossing and turning, nearly falling off the small bed several times, until he finally drifted off to the sounds of Sam's muffled sobs.

**Will's P.O.V.**

Will awoke to the sound of soft whimpers coming from the end of the room that he shared with the students. He sighed and stood up, rubbing his eyes. He walked down the rows of bunks until he found the source of the noises. Will knelt down next to the smaller boy, Kurt who was writhing under the sheets, crying out, flinching at some unseen foes. Will placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, shaking him gently, but Kurt just grew more distressed. Will needed to wake him; he didn't want him hurting his burned shoulder any more. He knew that the wound was going to be sensitive for a day or two. He grabbed Kurt's upper arms, holding him still. "Kurt, wake up." He murmured in the crying boy's ear. "Come on, please wake up."

Suddenly, Kurt shot upright, screaming. Will pulled the sobbing boy into his arms, rubbing his back and holding him close as he wailed, oblivious to the other students jumping out of their beds and rushing to his side. Kurt clung to him like a lifeline, his cries dying down until he was just shaking in Will's arms.

"Can someone explain to me what is going on here?" Will jumped and looked up, startled to see the blond demon-woman storming in. He pulled Kurt closer. The students gathered around them protectively.

''Sorry Sue, this one had a nightmare." Kurt buried his face in Will's shirt. Sue sneered.

"Well that won't do, will it? What if that happens after he's bought? I think we'll have to punish him." Rachel gaped, and Santana and Sam stepped in front of Kurt and Will, crossing their arms.

"Don't. You. Dare. Touch. Him!" Santana spat.

"Guards?" Sue gestured at the mass of people before her. The guards restrained Sam and Santana, the latter kicking and screaming. Another approached Will, and when he realized what was happening, he stood, shoving Kurt behind him.

"Sue, please! He didn't do anything!"

"On the contrary William, he woke me, and apparently all the students." The guard pulled Will aside, and grabbed Kurt, who let out a cry as he was dragged to Sue and thrown down onto his knees. Will ran towards Kurt, but was restrained by two more men. Will would have wondered where they were all coming from if he weren't so enraged by Sue's actions. "Ten lashings." Will struggled harder, trying to reach the boy who was huddled on the floor. The guard who grabbed Kurt went to the closet that Will knew only too well and retrieved the metal tipped whip. Will looked away as Sue raised her arm and brought it down with a sickening crack that ripped a scream out of Kurt' mouth. Images of every student that had ever been in Will's care drifted before his eyes. Trent, Mike, Brittany, Finn…He heard their screams in Kurt's, their cries floating to the top of his mind, their pain pouring into him. He remembered their dead, empty eyes as their spirits broke. And now Kurt. Sweet, innocent little Kurt who seemed to be able to smile through anything, and now he might become like _them. _He would _not_ let him die like they had.

"If you wake me again you'll get twenty," Sue snarled, and with that, she stormed out of the room, her guards following in her wake.

It was the morning of the seventh day when Kurt woke up to rough hands grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him out of bed. He saw the same happening to the others. Will was standing by with tears in his eyes. The guards forced Kurt and the others to stand in a line and face Sue, who had come in while the teens were being woken up. "I hope you're ready." She seemed to hiss all of her words, and Kurt had like to imagine she had a forked tongue that she wasn't telling anyone about. "Because it's market day."

**You get a cookie if you can tell me who said, "Bravery is the kindest word for stupidity." **


	3. Chapter 3

**Finally! A new chapter! I'm sorry I haven't finished this sooner, I've been distracted recently.**

**Kurt's POV**

By now, even Santana didn't have the nerve to fight. They just let themselves be marched along the stone hall, up some stairs down some more halls until they came out in a courtyard, squinting and shielding their eyes from the piercing light that used to energize the, but now just burned. Will hadn't come with them; hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye. After the nightmare incident, the five of them had become very close. They always trusted each other; always there for each other when one of the teens was beaten or whipped by Sue, who seemed to always go out of her way to hurt them.

The spirts of Sam, Santana, and Rachel had been broken. That was understandable. The same probably would have happened to Kurt if he hadn't had that memory of Finn to hold on to. He had made himself a promise: he would not end up like Finn. He would be free, even if that meant he had to die to accomplish it. But to say that Kurt's psyche was unaffected by the training would be a lie. He still had nightmares every night, though he had learned to silence the cries that fought to make an appearance. He would flinch at the smallest things. They were herded into a carriage, big enough to fit the four teens and Sue. They rolled on through the village they called home.

Kurt spent the whole time staring out the window, watching the familiar houses go by as they reached his street. He saw people he recognized wheeling carts or hoisting heavy sacks or leading animals to take to market. Many of them looked up and waved sadly, knowing that this was the last time they would probably see the teens. Ghostly versions of him and Rachel as small children chased each other down the streets, ignorant of their fates, while their dads were trading with the caravan that came to their town yearly.

Then he saw the unmistakable shape and a dark grey donkey ahead, missing its left ear, just as Kurt remembered. She was being led by a man with a bald spot on the top of his head who walked with a confident yet subdued walk that was the main characteristic of his dad. The donkey had been named Elisabeth, after Kurt's deceased mom. If his dad was selling her, things must be bad.

Kurt wrapped his hand around one of the bars that made up the window. He knew better than to call out to his dad, as Sue would probably punish him. His dad looked up as the carriage passed, his eyes widening as he noticed Kurt. "Kurt!" He called, jogging to keep up. Kurt let a single tear fall, knowing that he could not respond without being punished. Tears were running down his dad's face. "Kurt please say something! Anything! I can't lose you too!" Kurt glanced at Sue, who was glaring at him, daring him to open his mouth. The carriage sped up, and they left the small village behind.

The market was crowded as usual. People were bustling about, getting their trading done. Usually, Kurt was part of that crowd with his dad, and it was strange to be seeing market day from the perspective of the goods being bought. There were already some people that were clearly on the richer side, glancing at Kurt and the other visible Singers with a practiced buyer's eye. He could see other carriages rolling in the same direction as his, people about his age staring nervously out of their windows.

"Out of my cart!" Sue demanded, pushing the door open as they rolled to a stop. The teens filed out, and Kurt looked around, taking in his surroundings. It was one long dirt road connecting with the main area of the market. There were small, cell-like boxes lining either side, the walls facing the road were made of glass, while all other walls were thick gray stone with a door on the back wall. They were led back behind the cells, and Sue opened each of the doors for the new Singers individually, unlocking a series of complex locks hanging off the doors. "Once you're inside, you will stand still. Face forward and do not speak. Do not move at all unless you are told."

Even when they were told to enter their cell, Kurt didn't move. He couldn't keep his thoughts from racing. One he was inside that cell, there would be no escape until someone bought him, and he didn't know how soon that would be. He might not get bought at all like many people here and end up having to live with Sue and Will until next year. That was not an option. His best chance of escape would be either now or after he was bought, but thinking about it, running now would get him killed.

Of course everyone knew that a lot of times, Singers weren't only used for singing. Many that were physically appealing (mostly girls) would be bought and used sexually. It wasn't a secret. Kurt prayed that that didn't happen to himself or any of his friends, but he doubted he would have such luck. Especially Santana.

He felt a rough hand push him harshly into the cell in front of him and lock the door securely. Not wanting to anger Sue, Kurt did as he was told, standing facing the road. First five minutes went by, then ten, ten thirty, and Santana had been bought by a tall, menacing looking man with a beard full of stubble who clearly didn't care about her singing voice.

Soon after she had been taken away, Kurt's dad appeared, with Carole holding his hand. Kurt tensed. He knew this was coming, but he was never truly prepared for it. Burt let a few tears fall and placed his hand on the glass, staring at Kurt. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, he put his hand over Burt's and said quietly, "Dad."

"Kurt. You know I love you," Burt said. Kurt nodded. "If I had the money, I would buy you. I tried. I offered them everything I could give, even Elisabeth, but they wouldn't take it. I'm sorry."

"No, Dad. You can't be sorry; this isn't your fault. I'm going to be fine, but you need to promise me you'll take care of yourself while I'm gone. Okay?"

This time, Burt was the one to nod. After a shot pause in the conversation, Burt said, "Carole and I are getting married."

Kurt smiled. "That's great! I'm so happy for both of you."

"Thank you, but that's not important. What's important is that you don't give them what they want, you got me? You can't let them win."

Kurt smiled though his tears. "I won't." Then he noticed Sue stalking towards him and straightened with a quick, "I love you, Dad."

Sue made it to Kurt and Burt and cleared her throat loudly. "Do you need something?" The venom in her voice made it clear that the question was only a formality.

"No ma'am. I was just-"

"Then leave," Sue snapped. Burt gave Kurt a long look before turning and leaving as he was told with Carole behind him.

**Blaine' POV**

When Blaine's eighteenth birthday came, there had been showers of gifts and a huge party with an incredible band that involved many well-dressed nobles who clearly didn't want to be there, but would offend Blaine's family if they didn't show up. Blaine's family was people that were dangerous to anger, for they were the richest family within one hundred leagues and owned just about everything. What Blaine hadn't expected was his mother telling him that she his father would be buying him a Singer when market came around.

Of course Blaine had acted excited, but he had never really been fond of the idea of buying and selling people. But he couldn't say no. That could be dangerous. Now, as he stepped carefully out of his carriage and looked down the long row of glass-walled cells lining the street, he knew that this moment would probably change the rest of his life, and he had to choose carefully.

It was hard to choose. Going around and listening to every one of them sing would take way too long, so he really had no grounds on how to choose. Everyone looked the same; straight backed and focused directly ahead. All except for one boy.

He was leaning aginst the wall to his left, ignoring the frantic glances and hand gesters from the other Singers as he kept his head down and eyes pressed closed. Blaine watched as a blonde woman in chain link armor stormed over to the boy and started threatening him loudly. The boy closed his eyes tightly and turned his head away from the woman, ignoring her.

She jogged off behind the rows of cells and opened a door behind the boy, grabbing him by the back of the neck with one hand and punching him hard in the jaw with the other. He fell back against the wall with a short cry, and Blaine had to look away and keep walking on the other side of the road, ignoring the pained cries from the boy as the woman continued beating him.

Blaine hadn't realized the sounds had stopped until he eventually came to the cell that same boy was in. There were new chains around wrists attached to the wall on either side of him, keeping him facing forwards and standing up. There were dark bruises around his eye and jaw along with a small cut on his cheek. But under all of this, Blaine realized, his face was beautifully angelic. The unmarked skin was smooth and milky pale. His eyes were so deep, glimmering like galaxy of green-blue stars as they stared directly back into Blaine's, captivating him. Even with all of the cuts and bruises, his face had a poised perfection to it, and Blaine felt sure about one thing for the first time: He was in love.

"Let's keep going, sweetie," Blaine's mom said, cutting into his musings, "He's damaged." Blaine saw the boy flinch slightly at her words.

"No. I'd like to hear him," Blaine said absentmindedly, still gazing into those eyes that had captured him and wouldn't let him go.

His mom waved over the women who had just recently been hurting the world's most valuable gift. Blaine decided that he despised her. "Need anything?" the woman asked politely.

"Yes. We're interested in this one." Blaine tried to hide the glare as he watched his mom and the woman talk about the boy as if they were trading live stalk.

"Are you sure about him?" the woman asked, giving a sneer, "I'm sure the Andersons could do much better then him. He's worthless."

"Just do your job," Blaine's mom retorted.

The woman turned towards the boy. "Well? You heard her."

Shaking, the boy began to sing, his voice clear and high like a stream trickling into Blaine's ears. It was a simple melody, probably some folksong from the boy's village, something about a blackbird singing in the dead of night. It was the most beautiful thing Blaine had ever heard. He didn't realize he had been nodding the whole time until he looked over to see his mom handing a bag of coins over to the woman and the woman disappearing to get the boy. She appeared a minute later, leading the boy by a rope around his neck and handing the end to Blaine's mom. "Enjoy," the woman smirked.

So now he owned a person. What now?

**Finally done with that chapter! Hopefully it'll go faster next time.**


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